


I Promise

by jqueen17



Category: Phandom
Genre: Angst, Brief Depictions of Violence, Crime AU, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5889631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jqueen17/pseuds/jqueen17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crime AU in which Dan is a hitman and Phil is a surgeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favorites that I have written so far, so I hope you guys like it! Please let me know what you think; enjoy!:)

Dan  
I hated my job. I really did. You’d probably tell me, well, why don’t you quit, then? And I wouldn’t blame you. That’s the logical thing for a person to do, right?  
Well, it’s not that simple for me.  
I’m a hitman. I’m still not exactly sure how I became involved in the gang I was currently a part of, but here I was, stalking people and doing the dirty work for the others. Why me, you ask? Well, because I’m the most apathetic, of course. Each of my accomplices have a certain weakness, be it blood or tears or women or men or simply because they’re not really bad. Some may call it a conscious.  
See, I don’t have one of those.  
And if I did, we haven't found my weakness yet. I could kill without flinching, unaffected by the pleas or blood of any person, and my boss thought of me as his prized possession. I was their bitch, if we were going to be blatantly honest. I had no choice in the matter. I had tried to back out and say no and run before, and, well, let’s just say I’m better off being the bitch.  
I was also good at my job. I was a good shot, especially for someone who had never held a gun in his life before 9 months ago. I had a trustworthy nature about me, so I could lure people anywhere I wanted with ease. I guess I was attractive as well, which helped, but I honestly would rather be anyone else.  
Because while I didn’t feel anything for the people whose lives I took, I did feel bad for the act of killing itself. It wasn’t enough for me to stop, but it was enough for me to wonder if maybe I did have a conscious lurking somewhere in the shadows of my heart. I knew I wasn’t a bad person-I really did hate killing-but I hated the punishments more. They wore my mind down, causing me to have panic attacks far too often and existential crises every other day, and sometimes twice a day at that. I knew I was probably crazy by now, but there was nothing I could do. They saw everything. So all I could do was stalk and seduce and kill, all the while my mind screaming at me to just end my miserable life. Anything would be better than this horrible, twisted reality.  
Alas, I was a coward at heart, and so when my boss sat me down the day of my 21st birthday and handed me a new file, I stared at him with an impassive face and a frozen heart.  
“This one is special, Daniel. You have to pay very specific attention to the details. Do you understand?”  
I nodded once, seeing the grin that spread across his face even though I was staring at a spot on the wall over his shoulder.  
“Good boy. Now, I must warn you that Elise, Jackson, and Stephen have all attempted this job, and each time they failed horribly.”  
“Why.” My voice had no inflection in it at all, the way I spoke around anyone in this group, anyone in general lately. It was who I was to them; the cold, emotionless, attractive toy. I hated my persona, but it wasn’t something I could change. It was the only thing that even remotely protected me.  
My boss’s eyebrows flicked up for a brief moment before answering-I didn’t usually ask questions, and I chised myself for drawing attention to myself.   
“Apparently the man is nice. That was all three of their answers, which I personally think is absolutely ludicrous. But that won’t be a problem for you, will it?”  
I shook my head from left to right once, and he grinned again, making me want to shiver. Of course, I didn’t-I couldn’t show any sign of emotion, let alone fear-and he stood, squeezing my shoulder on his way out.  
“Do it right, Daniel. Don’t disappoint everyone.”  
I waited until he was out of the room to let the sob escape my chest, but it wasn’t accompanied with tears or anything else. It was one solitary exclamation of absolute emotional pain, and that was all I allowed myself before I stood, going to prepare for this kill. I wouldn’t fail. Because if I did, I would be the one being punished for all four failed attempts. If I couldn’t complete a kill, no one could.  
And if no one could, it was my fault.

The one perk of this job was that I had to wear black almost constantly. In my opinion, monochrome was the only acceptable fashion choice, so as I pulled on black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, I felt more like myself than I had in a few days. I sometimes lost sight of who I used to be, what I used to like, constantly depressed by my surroundings. It wasn’t like I didn’t like color, either. I just never got to enjoy it, so why bother liking anything at all anymore?  
I memorized the file for about an hour, making sure I knew each and every detail. His name was Philip Lester. He was 25 years old. 6’3’’, same as me, and about the same weight. That perked my curiosity slightly-most of the people I killed were a lot bigger or a lot smaller than me. I’d never had an even match. He had blue eyes and black hair, was a pretty successful doctor, and had a spotless record. There was no picture to accompany the facts, and I tried to picture him in my mind, curious as to what I was up against.  
Why is he so important?  
I didn’t dwell on it for too long; not giving a shit was my coping mechanism. But I couldn’t help but think that this was a personal kill, that the man had some connection to my boss, and that made me understand the importance of this job. I would be punished severely if I failed. And by my boss, at that.  
I didn’t want to think about the last time my boss had done the punishing.  
As I headed out the door of the lobby of my apartment-the building was owned by my boss, so we all lived here, naturally-Elise stopped me, and I resisted the urge to run. Elise was one of our best shots as well, but she majored in the art of sheer seduction. I hated her with every fiber of my being, because she used people like tools and threw them away like trash. And she hated me just as much because her games never worked on me. Well, not in the way she wanted them to, at least.  
“Where you off to, Daniel?” She purred, and I suppressed a shiver. Her breath smelled of mint and cherry lipgloss, an awful combination, and her grey eyes were half-lidded and smouldering. I supposed that anyone else may think she was attractive. I thought she looked like a snake.  
“To finish the job you couldn’t sleep your way out of, obviously.”  
Her eyes changed from seductive to steely in a heartbeat, and she pressed close to me, more threatening than attractive right now.  
“Listen here you little shit,” she hissed, her lips grazing my ear. “Don’t bother coming back. Even you won’t be able to kill this one. And despite my feelings towards you,” she ran a finger down my chest slowly, but I knew how she really felt about me. “I wouldn’t want to see you flayed by the captain. He was pissed at me, but, well...I solved the issue.”  
I rolled my eyes, stepping away from her. “I’m sure you did. You’re disgusting. But I’m not going to fail.”  
She raised an eyebrow at me, slowly sliding her eyes over my figure. “Mmm. Sure you’re not.”  
I brushed past her, and she smacked my bum on the way by, cackling as she sauntered over to the elevator. I sort of wished I would fail, just so I’d never have to see her again.  
The file had said the man worked at the hospital about an hour away from the apartment, so I took the bus, trying to plan how, exactly, I could corner him. I supposed I could wait by his car (that was in the file as well), but this needed to be smooth. I had my gun in my backpack, along with a few knives just in case. I wasn’t sure what the best way to take him out was just yet, but I was sure I would know when the time came.  
Finding his car was the first challenge I faced. There were 12 floors of the parking garage, and all I could do was walk around aimlessly and look at the employee parking spots. Of course his car ended up being on the 8th floor, and as I leaned against the car to wait for him, an uneasy feeling began tying knots in my stomach. Something was off about this place, but I couldn’t place my finger on it.  
I had just spotted the man I was here to kill when I felt the air stir behind me, and a split second before I turned I felt something crack against my skull. Another blow hit my lower back, and I felt my backpack wrenched off my shoulder, setting my arm in a blaze of pain. I could feel myself losing consciousness, and heard my assailant laugh before footsteps approached, causing them to run. I heard a voice yell after them, and then a few moments later, speak to me.  
“Hey, are you-shhhh-you’re bleeding. Hold on, let me get someone-”  
I tried to reach out, moaning at the pain in my arm, and my voice came out as a commanding hiss. “NO! Just-no doctors. No hospitals. Take me anywhere else. Please.”  
I said that in hopes that he would take me to his apartment, and it worked. Just as I was about to black out completely from the pain, I felt him lift me into the car surprisingly easily, laying me down in the back seat gently.  
“Alright, alright. Just hold on; it’s not far.”  
I was unable to make myself stay awake, and the last thing I thought of was the cackle of my attacker and the faint smell of mint and cherries.

Phil  
The boy looked absolutely horrendous, and I’m not sure what compelled me to listen to him and not get help. He clearly needed help, and I wasn't sure if it was my confidence as a medical professional or the desperation of the boy’s voice that caused me not to. He fell silent in the backseat, and I knew he’d passed out, which made me drive way too fast to my flat. I managed to get him up the stairs with virtually zero help on his part, and gently laid him down on the couch, quickly getting a first aid kit from the bathroom. I needed to wake him up, and I was considering getting some water when he began to couch, the pain in each one making my heart hurt.  
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay now.”  
His eyes flew open, struggling to focus, but when they did I was amazed by how beautiful they were. I had always liked the color brown, but his eyes had flecks of amber and gold and honey and caramel in them, creating the richest shade of brown I’d ever seen. I sucked in a breath, and he mimicked the act, causing us both to stare at each other in silence. I had to do something, so I cleared my throat, my voice coming out way too high pitched and tense.  
“Um, okay, you got hit. Quite a few times. Do you remember?”  
His silence went on for a beat too long, but he nodded once, pain the only emotion clear on his face. And even that was slight, although I knew he must have been in agony.  
“Okay. Can you tell me how bad each of your injuries are?”  
Once again, he stared warily at me for a few beats before responding, his voice thick with pain. “My head is the worst. Then my shoulder. And then my back, slightly less.”  
I nodded, pulling some bandages and hydrogen peroxide out of the kit, along with a clean washcloth. “May I look at your head then, please?”  
I knew he didn’t trust me, not for a second, but he leaned forward nonetheless, wincing and cursing under his breath. I tried to be as gentle as possible, but he let a hiss out from between his teeth and bottom lip each time I touched his head.  
“Hold on, I have some pain medicine… If you want it?”  
He froze, body rigid with agony. “No. Thanks though.” His voice was rough, and I let out a disbelieving huff.  
“It’ll help a lot. I still have to look at your back and shoulder and-”  
“I’m good. Thank you.”  
I stopped pressing him, trying to block out his hisses of pain. I didn’t know why he didn’t accept the medication-I know he didn’t know me, but I wasn’t exactly threatening. It took me about twenty minutes to completely clean and seal the ragged cut on his head, and I was worried he had a concussion.  
“Do you feel lightheaded or dizzy at all?”  
“No.”  
I didn’t believe him for a second, but shrugged anyway, moving to look at his face. “Okay, you said your shoulder hurt?”  
“It’s dislocated.”  
My eyebrows went up in surprise at his sure tone, and I tried to catch his eyes to see if he was just guessing. But as I looked at his arm, I saw that he was right. His left shoulder hung slightly lower than his right, and dark bruises were already appearing on his pale skin. “Okay. I’m going to have to pop it back into place then, alright?”  
“Yeah. Do it.”  
I had him lie down on the floor, and with a lot of swearing, he managed to stretch his arm all the way out to the side, at a 90 degree angle. I grabbed his hand, bracing myself by sitting on my knees and getting ready to pull. “Alright, this will hurt for just a second, but it’ll feel better after I’m done, I promise.”  
He jerkily nodded in agreement, and I counted to three before pulling his arm firmly but gently towards me. He clenched his jaw and let out a long stream of profanity, but breathed out a sigh of relief when I felt his shoulder pop back into place.   
“Okay, I’m going to need you to at least take some muscle relaxer, so I can rotate your shoulder to make sure you’ll be able to move your shoulder. Okay?”  
He hesitated, eventually relenting, waving for me to go get it. I handed him a glass of water and three pill capsules, which he recoiled at. I could tell he severely didn’t want to take them, but he forced them down, asking for another glass of water. After he downed the second glass, he lay back down, panting from the pain of sitting for so long.  
“Does your back hurt that bad?” I asked, genuinely worried about him. He shrugged, but I knew it did. I began slowly rotating his arm, and he kept his eyes screwed shut the whole time, barely breathing. After about 15 minutes of constant circulation, I decided he didn’t have any permanent damage to any muscles, allowing him to rest for a little while.  
“I’m not really sure about your back yet. Do you know what’s wrong with it?”  
He kept his eyes closed as he answered, and I wished he would take the medicine I kept insisting he take. He was in agony, and I hated watching it.  
“It’s bruised, and I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle on the way down. I'm sure it’ll be fine though, you really don’t need to do anything more.”  
There was no way I was going to let him sit there in pain all night, so I told him to roll over and let me see if I could adjust his back.  
“I’m fine. Really.”  
I rolled my eyes, which he luckily didn’t see, and spoke in a calm, reasonable voice. “You’re not. I know you don’t trust me, but please-I don’t like seeing people in pain when I can help.”  
Something I had said had caused him to open his eyes, and I was entranced by the colors again before he spoke, seeming to have given up his fight. “Alright,” he mumbled quietly, rolling over and sucking in a breath as he did. I sat beside him, lifting his shirt to the middle of his back, and fliched at the bruise that had formed.  
“Yeah, he hit you pretty good.”  
“She,” he automatically corrected, and I could practically hear him mentally kicking him for blurting it.  
“You know who hit you?” I asked, and he barely hesitated before answering.  
“No. I just know it was a girl.”  
I knew he was lying, but I let it go, placing my hands on his lower back. He inhaled sharply, from the pain or my hands I didn’t know. I began to massage the muscles in his back, working the obvious tension out of them.  
“Your muscles are stretched like a wire. No wonder you pulled a muscle.”  
He didn’t respond, every so often letting out a small exclamation of pain that pricked at my heart. They eventually faded into silence, and it didn’t take much longer after that for him to murmur a thanks under his breath. He sat up, looking exhausted, once again avoiding my eyes.  
“I’ll get you some pillows and a blanket so you can sleep.”  
He looked like he was going to put up another fight and protest, so I held a hand up, smiling at his expression. “I insist. I’m a doctor, and I don’t want you moving right now. If you were at the hospital I would have you stay overnight, so I could keep an eye on you.”  
He nodded after a moment, moving to the couch and nervously playing with his hands. “Can I have something for the pain now, please?”  
It was the first admittance of weakness he had given yet, so I smiled in sympathy, knowing he had to be exhausted.   
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”  
I was honestly surprised when I returned that he hadn’t bolted. He looked like a flight risk, his eyes nervously scanning everything in the room multiple times. I handed him a big glass of water and two painkillers that wouldn’t clash with his muscle relaxers, and would also help him sleep. I sat the blanket and three pillows next to him, sitting in the chair opposite the couch. I could feel the boy watching me, and while I was slightly uncomfortable, I didn’t tell him to stop.  
“What’s your name?” I asked, and he studied me with that same guarded, wary expression I had decided was his defense mask. It was the expression he fell back on when he wanted to hide any other emotion, wipe any other feeling from his face.  
“Dan,” he said after a few moments, and I was surprised to see in his eyes that he wasn’t lying. I had the feeling he didn’t want me to know much about him, and that underlying suspicion of me was still there. I still wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it was.  
“Well, Dan, nice to meet you. I’m Phil.”  
He nodded at me, and I realized I hadn’t seen him smile since I had met him. It had only been a few hours, but again, my gut instinct said he didn’t smile very often even under normal circumstances.  
After about half an hour, Dan was still awake, and I walked over to turn the light off, standing by the couch to give him another smile.  
“You’re safe, I promise. I’ll be in my room if you need anything-it’s the last door on the right.”  
He nodded, turning one corner of his mouth up in a failed attempt at a smile. “Thank you, for all of this. You really didn’t have to.”  
I waved him off, smiling before making my way to my room. “I know. But I wanted to.”

Dan  
I was really tired, but I couldn’t bring myself to relax enough to sleep. I closed my eyes, forcing my body to relax while my mind worked in overtime. My boss would know something was up when I didn’t return that night. He would know I hadn’t killed Phil, and that left the door wide open for any torture of his choosing, any way to make me suffer-  
I steered myself away from those thoughts, on the brink of a panic attack. I really should leave if I wasn’t going to kill Phil-and by now I knew I couldn’t bring myself to do it-but I couldn’t remember ever feeling more safe anywhere else. I knew I wasn’t safe, of course, but I felt safe, and that was more than I had ever felt in a long time.  
Now I knew why the others couldn’t kill him. There was no reason to. He was absolutely pure and innocent-you could see the kindness shining in his eyes, making you feel safe and loved even if you weren’t in the least. I hated feeling these things, not because they were bad, but because I felt them. And I just didn’t do that. Phil had gotten to me, even in those few brief hours, and that was absolutely terrifying to me. No other person...no one had ever even gotten close, despite some of them knowing me for years. And then he comes along, barely meeting me at all, and in a span of-what, four hours?-he had my trust.  
I had never trusted anyone besides my parents in my life, I don’t think.  
So of course I didn’t want to let my guard down around him, let him in, because he could break me. It would be easy for him, so overly simple to take my trust and use it against me. But if I stayed...I don’t think I could bring myself to fight him. I could tell he wanted to know more about me-I had one of those demeanors, those personalities that drew people in-and a large part of me wanted to let him know everything. I knew I couldn’t. But I desperately wanted to.  
And yet, I remained on the couch, struggling to stay awake, all the while secretly hoping Phil was curious enough about me to care what was going on in my messed up life.  
Those thoughts were dangerous, but they were what encompassed me as I drifted into an uneasy, medicated sleep.

The smell of pancakes woke me, pulling me from a dream that I only remembered running in. I was in the process of sitting up when a wave of dizziness swept over me, causing me to collapse back onto the sofa.  
“Yeah, I thought you might have a concussion. Are you hungry?”  
I swallowed back my nausea, squeezing my eyes closed. “No. Thanks, though.”  
“No problem. I’ll save some for you though, just in case you get hungry later.”  
I held up a hand, giving him a thumbs-up over the back of the sofa, so I didn’t have to sit up. He chuckled, continuing his food preparation for a few more minutes before walking around to my field of vision, giving me a grim smile.  
“How do you feel?”  
“Like I got hit by a train. But it could be worse, I guess.”  
Phil chuckled again, and I had the urge to laugh along with him. I didn’t, though-I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what laughing felt like.  
But based on Phil’s face, it felt good.  
“I suppose it could. If you rest you should be fine, though.”  
I nodded, struggling to sit up again. Phil pushed me gently back, and I had no resistance left in me, falling back onto the pile of pillows he had given me last night.  
“I said rest, not try to do everything.”  
I wanted to protest-I needed to-but all I could do was lay in silence as he adjusted the covers around me again. My immediate instinct was to start kicking and get the hell out of there; my next was to freeze. So that’s what I did, studying his movements as if that would tell me why my boss wanted him dead. Every few seconds his eyes would flit back to mine, and I could breathe a little easier each time his lovely blue ones met my dull brown ones. Eventually he sighed, sitting down on the floor and watching my face. It was my turn to look anywhere but at him, and I heard him let a small chuckle escape his lips.  
“Why won’t you look at me when I look at you?”  
My eyes clicked back to his face, amazed that he didn’t sound accusing. He sounded genuinely curious, and that was so far from what I had expected that I accidentally blurted an answer.  
“I’m afraid you’ll see what I’m really thinking.”  
He blinked a few times, surprised. “Oh. Why don’t you want me to see what you’re thinking?”  
“I’m afraid it’ll get me in trouble.”  
I bit my tongue, wincing at the prick of pain. Phil was still studying my face, and as desperate as I was to look anywhere else, I couldn’t force myself to. I felt like I was in a trance, knowing what I should do but being unable to do it.   
“Why would your thoughts get you in trouble?”  
“They’re usually not what you want them to be.”  
I wasn’t really talking about Phil anymore, of course, and he seemed to know that, his face growing more and more concerned with each answer I gave.  
“They’re not what who wants them to be?”  
I closed my eyes, willing myself to stay quiet, but Phil’s voice was so smooth and concerned and gentle that I couldn’t help but answer. “My boss.”  
I could feel Phil’s hesitation in the air, and his warm hand touching my forehead startled me, causing me to flinch back.  
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.”  
I opened my eyes, watching his face as his hand reached forward again, resting gently on my forehead for a few moments before he pulled it back, frowning.  
“You don’t have a fever or anything, so that’s good. Can you… can you tell me what’s going on?”  
I stared over his shoulder, ignoring his question. If I didn’t answer it would be fine. I would be fine. I wouldn’t say anything stupid. If I didn’t say anything, nothing could happen to me. I would be safe. Silence was safe. He would just give up and leave and I would be-  
“Dan. Please?”  
My resistance wavered slightly, but I didn’t look at his face, staring at nothing. If I didn’t acknowledge him, I wouldn’t have to see his face fall when I said no. But I felt his hand on my face once again, turning my chin so I was looking directly into his eyes. They were swirling dark blue and gray with worry, slightly glistening, and were the most beautiful shade of gray I had ever seen. His voice was just as soft and worried when he spoke, causing my defense to crumble completely.  
“I know something’s going on-please tell me what it is? I want to know. I want to help.”  
I closed my eyes, thinking that maybe if I didn’t watch his reaction I would be able to tell him everything I had never been able to tell anyone. My voice was too loud after the silence, so I gradually fell into a hushed whisper, my clipped,hissed words full of pain.  
“My boss. He hires people to kill people or rob them or cause them pain. They’re hitman, really. He conned me into doing a job for him six months ago. I haven’t been able to leave since. Every time I try, he punishes me. I’m his best guy. I don’t feel anything. I guess he’s worn me down. I never fail. I was supposed to kill you last night. I failed.”  
His shock was palpable in the air, and I thought he would back away from me, dialing the police or something. He should have. I wanted him to. But instead I felt him take my hands in his, rubbing soothing circles on my knuckles.  
“You’re safe now.”  
I shook my head, eyes still closed. I didn’t want to see whatever emotion was in his expressive eyes right now-I wouldn’t be able to answer if I did.  
“You’re not though. They know where you live. They want you dead.”  
“They, as in, your boss?”   
He sounded way too calm for someone who was on a hit list, and I had to open my eyes then, judging his actual state. He looked perfectly calm, worried about me like he had been before, but not scared in the least. I nodded in answer to his question, and he smiled a little, nodding as well.  
“I had the feeling someone wanted me gone. Those other three weren’t able to look me in the eyes and shoot me, even though I was an easy target. I knew who they were, and I knew there was nothing I could do And if you’re his best...well, I guess I’m safe, then.”  
I stared, mouth slightly hanging open, at his obvious confidence. “What?” I blurted, not understanding how he could literally be flirting with death and so completely collected. He smiled at my shock, looking down at our hands, playing with my fingers. I let him, liking the feeling of my hands being warm. I was so cold all the time that it was a big change. A nice one, at that.  
“I’m pretty sure I know who your boss is. I think it's someone I one-uped one too many times at university. And he couldn’t kill me himself, so he got mad and tried to have other people do it. You must have looked like a godsend, being apathetic and such.”  
I know I probably should have been offended, but I wasn’t. I watched his face curiously, wondering where he was going with this.  
“But you’re not, clearly. And he’ll be pissed. But he can’t hurt you if he can’t get to you, and he can’t get to you as long as I’m standing in the way. So yes, you are safe.”  
I knew I should say something, anything, to express my gratitude towards him, but I couldn't. I didn't know how to react to someone being this kind to me, especially when they barely even knew me. Especially when I was supposed to end their life. I decided I owed him, so I tried to formulate my thoughts into words.  
“I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm grateful for everything you've done to help me. I don't deserve it, and you really shouldn't help me-I was ready to kill you. You should be ready to throw me out to my death after that. But you're not. And I don't understand why. But I'm grateful. So thank you.”  
I hadn't looked at Phil the entire time I was talking, which was a long time considering my awkwardness. But when I finally worked up the nerve to look up at his face, he looked kind and patient and a little sad, making my heart do a weird little squeeze thing that I had never felt it do before. It scared me, but I wasn't able to worry about it for too long because Phil began to speak, trapping my gaze with his the whole time.  
“I have a feeling you wouldn’t have killed me, even if you hadn’t been hit. And I know you’re grateful-I can see it in your eyes. I can also see how much you want to hide it in your face. Don’t worry about being yourself around me-I’m not going to judge you. I promise.”  
I blinked, snapping out of the trance his eyes had had me under. Instead, I looked down at our hands, still intertwined, and wondered why neither of us had pulled away. I guessed it was because it was soothing, making me want to run less. I was content, for the most part, which was a miracle in itself. I knew Phil wanted an answer, so I tore my eyes from our hands and looked him square in the eye, trying to be strong.  
“I don’t know how. I don’t remember what it’s like to feel anything but pain and fear and loneliness. Or nothing at all, more commonly.”  
Phil had to look away first this time, but not before I caught the wave of sadness that swept over his expression. My heart squeezed again, and I caught one of his thumbs with mine, making him look up to see my smile. I knew it wasn’t really a smile, but it was the best I could do-turn up a corner of my mouth and hope he got the message. He smiled back, still looking sad, but thoughtful as well.  
“Okay. We can work on that...if you want?”  
I was nodding before I really knew what I was doing, and Phil looked so happy in that moment that I couldn’t make myself go on to say that it probably wouldn’t work. Torture wore you down, and what I’d been living with...it was my own little version of hell. I knew Phil desperately wanted to help, however, so I would let him.  
It was the least I could do, since he had basically-had definitely-saved my life.

Phil  
Dan was a mess, but I believed, deep inside of me, that I could fix him. I wanted to help him-I couldn’t stand seeing his lovely face in so much obvious psychological pain. Especially when it was clear that he wanted to get better, wanted me to try and help. I got the feeling that not many people had ever offered to help Dan, and he didn’t really know how to respond to it. He had a fight-or-flight air about him, as if he would do whatever it took to survive if he couldn’t first run from it. And I knew he wanted to run now. But he forced himself to stay on the couch, and although I barely knew him, I was proud of him for that small accomplishment.  
As much as I didn’t want to, I made myself stand, taking my hands from Dan’s, and told him I was going to call in sick to work. A brief look of panic crossed his face, and I paused, asking permission with my hesitation. He nodded robotically, looking like a stone, and I made the call as quickly as possible. I was honestly afraid that if I didn’t loosen Dan up soon, he would snap.   
I sat next to him on the couch, feeling him tense up for a moment before relaxing slightly. I knew contact in general made him jumpy, so I kept a few inches of space between us, careful not to accidentally brush him.  
“Alright, to start out, what’s your favourite colour?”  
He looked a little confused, but mostly blank and impassive. “I don’t know.”  
I nodded patiently, my eyes scanning the room. “Okay, well, there are a lot of colours in this room. Pick the one you like the most.”  
He took his time searching the room, nothing really seeming to perk his interest until he looked at me. “Blue.”  
I smiled. “Great! Now what made you choose blue?”  
“Your eyes.”  
I was a little taken aback by his honesty, but smiled nonetheless. “Well, thanks. I’m flattered.”  
“What’s your favorite color?”  
He looked genuinely curious, so I beamed at him, speaking quickly and enthusiastically. “I can’t choose, really. It just depends on the day. I like them all, as you can probably tell-” I gestured around the flat, and the side of his mouth went up, encouraging me to continue. “But it’s usually green. Like plants. Again, you could probably guess why.”  
Dan looked at the multitude of potted plants scattered around the room-5, just in the lounge-and nodded, studying them. “I like Christmas trees.”  
That made me smile, and I sort of forgot where I was going with these questions, just talking. “Ooh, definitely. They are some of the prettiest trees. What’s your favorite holiday?”  
“Christmas. Duh.”  
I laughed, and saw a flash of Dan’s teeth as he smiled slightly more than before. Somehow, our conversation just progressed on its own, with no planning whatsoever from either of us. It started out light, but eventually made it’s way to the inevitable darkness of Dan’s situation.  
“You said your boss tortured you?” I asked, causing Dan to flinch. I felt awful, so I reached forward, grabbing his hands again. The simple act of having someone touch him, once he got used to it, seemed to calm him. It worked this time as well, distracting him as he spoke in a strained voice.  
“I don’t know if it qualified as real torture. I guess it just depends on how you define it. I thought it was pretty bad, though.”  
I squeezed his fingers with mine, and he jumped ever so slightly before giving his little half smile to our hands.  
“Did he cause any permanent damage?”  
Dan’s eyes flicked up briefly, his hesitation evident on his face.  
“You can show me, if it’ll help?”  
He nodded after a few moments of silence, turning around and pulling his shirt off. I muffled a gasp of shock at the faded lash marks on his shoulders and upper back, looking as if they continued onto his torso and stomach. They ran up and down his sides, and I winced at the thought of how much that must have hurt. I reached a hand forward hesitantly, lightly touching my fingers to one of the faded scars. He tensed up, shivering a little, but ended up leaning into my touch.  
“Why did he do this to you?”  
Dan didn’t turn back around, and I continued to trail my fingers over his back, feeling him relax more and more despite my question.  
“I failed at whatever job he had given me. It wasn’t just him, either-everyone got a part in beating me into submission.”  
I could detect the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice, under the uncaring pretense he still held. I didn’t even know if he realized he was doing it, or if he knew how to stop. I wanted to break through it, to see what was underneath, and I believed I was making progress.  
“Does this hurt?” I asked softly, pulling my hand back in question. Dan took a moment to respond, and I had began to worry that it had.  
“No. I…”  
I waited for him to collect his thoughts before placing my hand on his back again, not knowing what his full response would be.  
“It feels good. Your hands are cold, and I guess my back is just tender or something.”  
I made a sound of agreement, returning my palm to his back for a few more moments before asking him to turn around. I made sure he was looking at me as I spoke, and made myself very clear when I did.  
“I will stop him, Dan. For you. You didn’t deserve this, no matter what you think. Do you understand?”  
He nodded, looking wary and dubious and every other possible emotion that could contradict that nod.  
“Why would you do that for me, though? What did I do to deserve your kindness?”  
I could feel my heart breaking in my chest for this boy, this poor, misunderstood, beautiful soul. I don't know what what it was about him, but something made me want to fight for his love. I knew it was in there somewhere, as irrational as it seemed, and I would find it if it was the last thing I did.  
“Do you want the truth?”  
Dan nodded again, looking even more flighty than before. I chided myself for causing him anxiety, once again taking his hands in mine. I couldn't look him in the eyes this time, but I could feel him watching me, studying me with those soulful, sweet brown eyes.  
“I feel something for you, Dan. I'm not sure what it is yet; I know it seems ridiculous, since I only just met you. But this,” I rubbed my thumb over his knuckle, making him glance down. “Feels right. And I want to help you, because I can see who you really are under this mask you have on. I know it's your defense mechanism, and it will be a hard habit for you to break. But you have nothing to protect yourself from around me.” I smiled at him, and his face changed, looking as open as I had seen it yet. “Does that help you understand?”  
He bit his lip, nodding, considering what I had said. I let him take his time, and I could see he was choosing his words carefully, trying to be as collected as I had been.  
“I feel something for you as well, I think. I don't know. I'm scared, honestly.”  
I frowned, puzzled. “Scared of…?”  
“Feeling things. I don't know how to. I don't even know if I want to. Feeling nothing is safer than you'd believe.”  
I gave him a little reassuring smile, which he returned with a hesitant half smile. “You do. I know you do. How does this feel, right now?” I gestured to our hands, and he glided his knuckle over mine, holding tight to my palms.  
“Good. Comforting, I think?”  
I nodded. “And when I touched your back?”  
He looked away, seeming embarrassed. “Again, good. Soothing.”  
I wanted to try something, but I was afraid it wouldn't be a good idea to start off with. So instead, I pulled one of my hands from his grasp, slowly reaching up and cupping his face. He closed his eyes, and I didn't know if that was a good or bad sign.  
“And that?” I asked hesitantly. He nodded, and I let out a sigh of relief, working up my courage. I leaned forward, and Dan kept his eyes closed, though he must have felt me shift. My lips were about an inch from his when I spoke, whispering because it was the only volume that seemed appropriate.  
“Can I…?”  
Dan nodded before I'd finished the question, not pulling away or moving at all. I closed the space between us, cautiously pressing my lips to his. They were cold and chapped from where he must have chewed them nervously, but I warmed them with the brief contact of mine. I remained there for a few moments before leaning back, and Dan opened his eyes, something crossing over his face.  
“Was that...okay?”  
Dan raised a hand to his lips, running a finger over the bottom one, thinking. The longer he remained silent the more nervous I became, until eventually I had to say something.  
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong of me, and I'm just really, really-”  
Dan held a hand up, stopping my outburst. I fell silent, watching his face slowly transform into the sweetest, tiniest, most innocent smile I had ever seen.  
“I was going to ask if you could do it again, actually. I hadn't expected to enjoy it was all.”  
I grinned, leaning forward again but stopping before I had fully closed the distance. “Do you want to try?”  
Dan’s eyes popped open, looking panicked. “Um. I’m not good at it. Not at meaning it, I mean.”  
I shook my head, giving him an encouraging smile. “I bet you could be if you tried. Go on. I won’t mind.”  
Dan ran a hand through his hair, which had started to curl since yesterday. I quite liked the way it looked now, messy and unstyled and sweet. It made him look young and innocent, which I guess he still was. He leaned forward slowly, cautiously, and I sat back patiently and waited for his lips to press against mine. When they did, I returned the kiss, which seemed to surprise Dan before he relaxed, easily learning as I knew he would. His arms went up around my shoulders, and I held his waist gently, letting him take his time, the kiss becoming deeper as time passed. By the time he pulled away we were both breathless, lips numb and sore from the friction.  
“See, you’re a natural.”  
His face stained a gentle crimson, Dan flashed another small grin, looking up at me from under his eyelashes. “You think so?”  
I answered him by pulling him towards me, simply hugging him to my chest. “I like you a lot,” I whispered against his head. I didn’t know why, but I did. He was mysterious and complicated and I felt like I could make him happy, as conceited as that probably sounds. He made me feel like I wasn’t completely useless; sort of like how my job made me feel, on good days. Dan didn’t respond, and after a few moments I leaned back, looking at his face. He had tears quietly streaming down his cheeks in little rivulets, his face looking pinched.  
“Don’t cry,” I whispered, using my thumbs to wipe the water from his face. He nodded, but couldn’t seem to stop, a small sob escaping his chest. The sound of it broke my heart, so full of pain and loneliness and sorrow that I felt tears welling in my eyes as well. A small burst of laughter came from Dan as I felt the first few tears fall from my eyes, and he sniffled, hiccupping slightly as he spoke in a shaky voice.  
“Why are you crying?”  
I laughed as well, shrugging. “I don’t like seeing you so sad.”  
He shook his head, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands and giving me another smile. I saw a very prominent dimple appear on his left cheek, and a smaller one do the same thing on his right. They were so adorable, with his eyes still wet with tears and his face red from blushing.  
“You’re beautiful,” I blurted, immediately covering my mouth with my hand. Dan’s smile grew, as did his dimples, and he blushed a deeper shade of red.  
“Thanks. But not as much as you are.”  
We sat in silence for a few moments before Dan laid down across my lap, face first into the pillow to my left. He folded his arms under his head, and I placed a hand on his back, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.  
“Whatcha doing?”  
“Sleeping. Do you mind me laying here?”  
I chuckled, rubbing small circles over his back. “Of course not. Sweet dreams.”  
I heard him sigh contentedly, seeming for the first time completely at ease. I started to drift off as well before long, my hand still on Dan’s back as I fell into a peaceful sleep.

Dan  
I couldn’t explain the feeling of Phil gently trailing his hand over my back, humming a tune I don't think he even knew he was humming. I didn't feel the urge to run or scream or fight or even move-I guessed this was what it felt like to be relaxed. It was nice, and as I felt the both of us start falling asleep, I decided that Phil felt like home. It was a weird thing to say, since I had never really called any place home since I had left my parents house, let alone a person. I didn't even know that someone could make me feel this way, and it amazed me that Phil, a man that I had been assigned to kill just yesterday, was that person.   
When I woke up, I was warm. Which was a feat unto itself, since I couldn't remember the last time I hadn't had a perpetual chill in my bones. I knew Phil was beside me, so I tried to remain as still as I could, so as not to wake him up. He had to be exhausted. His arm was wrapped around my waist, his hand wedged between my left side and the couch, and the other pressed against the middle of my back. I felt his breath tickle my neck, and despite how much I trusted Phil, it felt odd to be so close to someone, willingly. And yet, I couldn't be more comfortable.  
But when Phil's lips brushed my neck, I instinctively jerked away, accidentally kicking him in the process.  
“Shit, sorry-I didn't know you were awake.”  
Phil winced at the bruise I'd probably left on his leg, but smiling sleepily at me nonetheless. “No, it's my fault. I forgot...I shouldn't have done that.”  
I shook my head, sitting up and pulling him with me. “You did nothing wrong. I'm sorry; are you okay?”  
He nodded, smiling at my embarrassment. “I like your hair.”  
I rolled my eyes, groaning. “Hobbit hair? That's your preference in hair?”  
“Mine doesn't curl.”  
“Mine won't stay flat.”  
We appraised each other for a few moments before bursting out laughing, and while it made my stomach hurt, I enjoyed it.   
“Speaking of disastrous hair, can I use your shower? It really curls then.”  
He laughed again, standing up and showing me where where the bathroom was. He darted into his room for a moment before popping out again, handing me a pile of clothes. I tried to look appreciative,.but he sensed my hesitation.  
“You're my guest, I don't mind you borrowing my clothes.”  
I shook my head, smiling at his kindness. “It’s not that, it's just...do you have anything black?”  
Phil tried to suppress his smile, failing miserably. “Yes, I do. But I sort of want to see you in color.”  
I shook my head, smiling. “Fine. But only because you've been so nice to me.”  
I took a relatively quick shower, and when I picked up my pile of clothes from the day before, something clattered to the floor, making me jump. My phone. I powered it on, my blood turning cold when I saw the notification number flash at the top. I only read a few of the messages, getting the gist immediately. They were all from Elise.

Daniel...  
You can't hide forever   
We know where you are, you stupid little shit   
Don't think he can protect you   
We'll kill you both in a heartbeat   
Oh, Dan, how I'm so going to mourn your death   
You failed, like we always knew you would   
Kiss him hard, Dan. You're done for.

I slid down the cabinet opposite the door, forehead against my knees, arms wrapped around my legs. They would make his death so much worse now, thanks to me. And I had no doubt that they would kill him. Because now it was to hurt me. And they so loved to do that.  
Phil inevitably knocked on the door, his muffled voice asking if I was okay. I tried to call a coherent, non-distraught answer, and failing. Like I did at everything. Phil cracked the door open, leaning his head in slightly. When he saw my position on the floor, he walked over to me, sitting down next to me and hugging me to his chest. He didn't say anything, and I didn't either, tears clouding my vision and closing my throat.  
“What happened?” Phil eventually asked, and I nodded to the phone laying on the tiles. He picked it up, eyes flickering over the messages, his breath catching at one point.  
“I'm calling the police.”  
I grabbed his wrist before he could stand, not letting him go. “No. absolutely not. They'll kill you so much worse, Phil. Please. Please don't.”  
Phil shook his head, tearing away from my grasp easily. “Dan, they need to be stopped. And I'm not living my life in constant fear. Besides, I know a police officer that will specifically take this case. Do you want to meet him?”  
I looked up at him warily, and he took my silence as an answer.  
“Hello, Mrs. Pentland? May I speak to officer Liguori, please?” Phil waited a few moments, smiling when a voice filled the other side of the line.  
“Hey, Peej. I need a favor, and it's kind of dangerous, but necessary. Yeah, I knew you'd be interested. Can you come over in about an hour? I have someone I want you to meet.”   
Phil hung up, offering his hand to help me stand. I pulled myself up, still semi-upset with him. But I forgave him pretty easily, after he made me a sandwich and nearly dropped it on the way from the kitchen to the lounge.   
“You're not very graceful, are you?” I asked, making Phil blush.   
“Nope,” he chirped, and we ate our food in silence for a few moments before Phil's eyes took on a curious look, staring at me.   
“You're really tense, yeah?”  
I shrugged, wondering where he was going with this. “I guess.”  
“Have you ever had a massage?”  
I shook my head, and he smiled. “Well, turn around, then.”  
I did as he said, and he scooted closer, resting his hands palm-flat on my back. “Okay, I'm going to work the knots and tension out of your muscles, but if it hurts at any point, tell me to stop.”  
I nodded, and he began kneading my back, his hands strong and warm. I let out a few involuntary sounds, alarmingly similar to moans, and Phil paused, waiting for me to say something.  
“No, no, don't stop. It feels great, I just didn't expect it to.”  
He chuckled, continuing, and I was leaning into him before I knew what was happening. He didn't pull away after he'd finished, instead wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his lips to my neck for the second time that day. I didn't tense up this time, but leaned my head the other way, allowing him to slowly pepper kisses along my jaw. It felt so good that I nearly growled when the doorbell rang, and Phil laughed at my sour expression.  
“That’s PJ. Hang on one sec.”  
I tried to compose myself into an appropriate manner for company, taking a deep breath and running a hand over my hair, to no use. It was an absolute mess at this point. Phil came back into the room with a man that was the same height as him, but slightly larger in muscle. He had curly brown hair and kind blue eyes, and I immediately trusted him more than I did most people, which was slightly disconcerting. He grinned easily at me, and I wondered if I would ever be able to come off as that laid back and relaxed.  
“Dan, this is PJ. PJ, this is my friend Dan, who is the reason I called you here.”  
PJ walked over and stuck his hand out, and I shook it semi-awkwardly. “Hey.”  
“Hey,” he grinned again, and I did my best to smile back.  
“So what’s going on?”  
Phil explained everything to him, and I sat as still as possible and pretended to be invisible. He showed him my phone at one point, and I could feel PJ staring at me, but didn’t look up. The silence from PJ after Phil had finished speaking worried me, and I allowed myself one glance up at him. He actually looked mad.  
Huh?  
“Dan, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”  
PJ’s voice was soft and kind, and I nodded, forcing myself to look at him.  
“Okay, where is this hotel located?”  
I gave him the address, and he nodded, writing it down on a scrap of paper he must have picked up off of Phil’s coffee table.  
“And the name of your boss?”  
I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped myself. PJ looked up, waiting for me to speak.  
“I don’t really know.”  
His eyes widened slightly, but he accepted it, whether it was because my face showed it or my voice did, I didn’t know.  
“The name of this girl, the one who sent you the texts and hurt you last night?”  
“Elise Scott,” I answered immediately, and he didn’t look away from me as he scribbled on the napkin.  
“And can you describe to me what they did to you?”  
I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to breathe normally. I knew I was close to having an anxiety attack, and I really didn’t want to think about any of that, but I needed to tell him. I knew I needed to, but I couldn’t make a sound. He waited patiently, smiling at me whenever my eyes would click back to his, and I knew he had to be frustrated with me.  
“I’m sorry,” I forced out. “Just give me a few seconds. I will. I just need...to breathe...for a second.”  
Phil abruptly stood up from his chair on the other side of the room, and walked over to sit next to me, putting an arm around me and turning to speak quietly into my ear, so PJ couldn’t hear.  
“Hey, are you okay? You don’t have to do this right now, you know. He can come back some other time.”  
I shook my head, sucking in a breath. Phil rubbed circles on my back, still speaking slowly and gently to me, trying to calm me down.  
“I know it’s scary, and I know how much this hurts you. I can see it in your eyes. But PJ will help, I promise. He wants to, actually-he can see how much this has taken out of you. But I know you’re strong, Dan; I can also see that.”  
I nodded, my breaths coming a little easier and my heart rate slowing to normal. I looked back to PJ, who was watching us with a small smile on his face, which transformed into a grin when he met my eyes.  
“You good, mate?”  
I nodded, and Phil scooted just a tad to the right, keeping his hand on my back as I spoke, gently running it across my shoulders every once in awhile.  
“At first it was just locking me in a small space. Like a closet or something, usually. But I’m afraid of the dark, so it was worse than it sounded. But then they would take turns doing whatever they wanted with me, with whatever they wanted. Pipes. Metal rods. Knives. Roulette with a gun. Whips.” I shuddered on the last one, quickly moving on. “They knew which one I liked the least. But it wasn’t just physical punishment. They would say things, making me feel like shit, and I know that sounds stupid but after a few months I started to believe it, or started ignoring it. And when I did that, it would be so, so much worse.”  
PJ was writing furiously, and I paused, taking a break and allowing him to catch up. When his pen finally stopped moving, I continued.   
“So I figured out how to not show any emotion whatsoever. I just endured the pain and the threats and the fear, and that endurance made me successful. Until now. And a lot of them just hated me for how good I was at my job, and made it their personal goal to see me fail. That’s what Elise was talking about, in those texts. They’ll kill me if they ever see me again.”  
I was done, and couldn’t meet PJ’s eyes, staring at Phil’s foot that was propped on the coffee table instead. I could feel them both staring at me, but I did nothing except blink every once in awhile.  
“Thank you, Dan. I know that must have been awful for you, but it helps.”  
I nodded, and he stood along with Phil, who walked him to the door. I heard them talking in hushed voices, and I leaned my head back onto the sofa, closing my eyes and blocking everything out.  
It was more peaceful than reality.

Phil  
“Is he going to be okay?” PJ whispered, and I answered him in an equally quiet voice.  
“I think so. He’s broken, Peej. That’s why I want you to catch these people.”  
PJ nodded, looking determined to do exactly that. Something crossed his face, and he looked at me curiously for a moment before speaking again, even lower than before, but with a touch of humour in his words.  
“And he’s just your friend?”  
I gave him a look, my face heating up. “He’s amazing, really. He’s just...Dan.”  
PJ nodded, seeming to understand. “I could tell you guys liked each other. I nearly barfed from the sweetness in there.”  
I pushed him out the door, thanking him before closing it. When I walked back into the lounge, Dan appeared to be asleep, except for the fact that he was shaking.  
“Dan?”  
His eyes popped open, and he gave me what was supposed to be a reassuring smile but was anything but. I said nothing, simply sitting next to him and leaning my head on his shoulder. He reached up, his hand toying with my hair, and it seemed to calm him. I was proud that I had a calming presence; it made me feel like I wasn’t completely useless.  
“Hey, Phil?” Dan mumbled, sounding like he was on his way to being asleep.  
“Mmm?” I responded, sleepy as well.  
“I think I’d die for you.”  
It was such an unexpected statement that it rendered me speechless for a moment, and snuggling closer to him, I lifted my mouth to his ear and spoke in the same voice that I had used earlier. One that I hoped was soothing and full of love.  
“I promise you’ll never have to. I promise that if it ever comes down to it, I would give myself up for you, whether you like it or not. I promise you’ll be okay; I promise we’ll be okay. I promise, Dan.” His snores were soft, but prominent, and I kissed the top of his head before murmuring softly against it.  
“And I promise I’ll always love you.”

PJ worked fast, and before the week had ended the hotel had been completely swarmed with police officers, almost all of the residents being arrested.  
Elise was not one of them.  
But after a few days, Dan and I felt safe enough to go outside, and I found him a job in the hospital, as a technician. He was amazing with electronics, surprisingly, and loved the laid-back schedule the job had. I returned to work, saving as many lives as I could; a doctor was honestly the only thing I’d ever seen myself excelling at.  
Being a good boyfriend had never been one of them.  
And yet, Dan promised me every day that I was. We hadn’t really made it official to any of our friends-which were mainly made up of my friends that loved Dan instantly-but they all knew, just as PJ had. They said we were restless without each other, like two parts of a whole.  
And I had slowly taught Dan how to relax. It was difficult at first, and he would get frustrated when he’d jump at the slightest noise, but I told him it was fine. I promised him that I didn’t, nor would I ever, mind.   
He got called to testify against his former partners, and while the idea obviously terrified him, he went through with it. Each person that had played a part in torturing him, and even the ones that didn’t, were given anywhere from 30 years to life in prison.  
Dan was seen as a hero to the families whose loved ones he had been forced to kill.  
We were walking home after the trial that night, Dan looking absolutely horrid. I squeezed his hand-which was held in my own, as it usually was nowadays-and he smiled down at my worried expression with only a faintly strained expression on his face.  
“I’m okay. It was a relief to get it off my shoulders, honestly.”  
“Oh, was it, now?”  
We both whipped around to see where the voice had come from, and I could practically hear Dan’s heart stop beating from beside me.  
“Elise.”   
His voice was strangled and panicked, and I didn’t fully grasp what was happening until I heard the metallic click of a gun. Oddly enough, I didn’t panic, instead stepping away from Dan and towards Elise. She snapped her eyes to me, and I froze, the gun pointed directly at my chest.  
“Move another step and you die.”  
I held my hands up, nodding. “Okay.”  
She appraised me with a snake-like expression on her face, sly and sneaky and purely evil. “So you two did end up together. How cute.”  
I couldn’t see Dan, but I could feel his tension as Elise stepped forward, walking towards me but training the gun on Dan.   
“He’s really attractive, isn’t he, Phil.”  
I didn’t answer as she trailed a hand along my chest, and I had to resist the urge to shiver. She walked around behind me, pressing her lips to my neck and mumbling seductively, “but you’re not bad, either.”  
Dan’s anger was almost palpable, and I was coiled and ready to act if she moved that gun. But she didn’t, moving back in front of the both of us, the gun aimed at me again.  
“What’s the matter, Daniel? Afraid your boyfriend likes girls?”  
I could sense Dan struggling to restrain himself from saying something biting and sarcastic, and since I knew that would make her snap, I began to speak.  
“I don’t. You’re pretty, though.”  
She smiled at me, and I could tell how people could mistake it as sincere.  
“Thank you, sweetheart. I almost feel bad for doing this.”  
I barely registered the fact that I was about to die before she pulled the trigger, and I just had time to close my eyes against the sound before...nothing. I felt nothing. I opened my eyes, and Dan was lying on the ground in front of me, Elise even looking shocked. I darted forward, grabbing the gun and punching her square in the face without thinking. She slumped to the ground, unconscious, and I knelt beside Dan, trying not to panic. He had a huge hole in the middle of his chest, and looked as if he was close to passing out. I dialed PJ and put it on speaker before placing my hand over his wound, applying pressure to it and trying to staunch the blood flow until medics arrived.  
“Hello?”  
“PJ, get help. Elise just shot Dan. Hurry.”  
He hung up, not bothering to waste time responding. Dan thrashed under my hand, his eyes struggling to focus on anything. When they found my face, his lips twitched up in a ghost of a smile, and his voice was weak and pain-filled when he spoke.  
“I promised I’d die for you.”  
“You will not die,” I hissed, and if he could have rolled his eyes, he would have. We remained in silence until we heard sirens from the next block over, and I squeezed Dan's hand like I always did, trying to reassure the both of us.  
“Phil?”  
I looked back to Dan, who was smiling at me despite bleeding out onto the street.  
“Yeah?” My voice was choked with emotion, and I was surprised he'd heard me. Maybe he hadn't, though, since his next statement really didn't need my answer.  
“I love you.”  
I was really crying then, my tears falling onto my hand, still trying to keep the life inside of Dan. His eyes were fluttering closed, so I made myself speak in case this was the last time I'd get the chance to say anything to him.  
“I love you too, Dan. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. You'll be okay, I promise. You have to be.”  
He smiled a weak smile before his eyes shut completely, and I was pulled away from him as a group of my colleagues loaded him onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. I tried to follow them, but PJ came out nowhere and held me back.  
“I need you to give a statement, Phil. I'm sorry.”  
I protested, trying to fight my way past him, but PJ was strong.  
“He'll be okay, Phil. She didn't hit his heart-she wasn't aiming for him.”  
The realization that I easily could have been the one in that ambulance hit me hard, and I followed PJ in a daze, the guilt of Dan being alone nearly swallowing me. If he died…  
I promise I would not be okay.

Dan didn't die. He almost did, though; the surgeons had said that if I hadn't know how to apply pressure, he'd be dead for sure.   
I saved him.  
That was the only thing he could say to me when they finally released him, tears streaking down his cheeks and hugging me so tight I could barely breathe. But I was crying as well, because I'd almost lost the most important person in this world to me. Dan was my compliment, the dark to my light, the warm to my cool. We were opposites and I guess opposites do attract, because we wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.  
“Hey, Phil?” He asked one day, about a year after the accident.  
“Hmm?” I mumbled, trying to cook dinner and not turning around. When he didn't answer, however, I had to, curiosity getting the best of me. I never expected him to be down on one knee, smiling the smile no one else in the world was lucky enough to see as much as I did, chocolate eyes sparkling and dimples making his entire face light up. His eyes reflected the diamonds of the ring he presented, beautiful and glittering and glistening, and his voice was clear and full of love when he spoke.  
“I've loved you since the first time I heard you speak, and I want the last thing I hear to be your voice. Will you marry me?”  
I ran at him, tackling him to the floor in a hug that he hadn't expected. I heard him laugh, and I peppered kisses all over his face, crying and laughing all once.  
“Yes, Dan. Yes I'll marry you.”  
He grabbed my hand, slipping the ring on my left finger, his eyes filling up with tears.  
“I promise I'll love you forever, Phil.”  
I grinned, pulling us both to our feet and giving him a long, deep kiss before answering.  
“I promise too, Dan. It'll be an easy promise to keep.”


End file.
